


I Won’t Leave You

by Jazzfanatic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Claustrophobia, Destiel if you squint - Freeform, Episode: s15e09 The Trap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:55:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22802158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jazzfanatic/pseuds/Jazzfanatic
Summary: Set in Chuck’s future world as seen in season 15
Kudos: 6





	I Won’t Leave You

Lying in the dark, Castiel can feel it—the oncoming wave of chittering, raw insanity. He can almost see it, even with his eyes closed, approaching from the distance like a tidal wave barreling toward the shore. He flinches only briefly before he steels himself to wait.

It doesn’t take long.

Soon his head is pounding, a raw scream flies from his throat, and his limbs begin to flail almost of their own accord. He kicks and punches, thrashing wildly and with no control, roaring into the darkness and hearing his screams echoing in his head. There are no coherent thoughts now, only mindless rage. The angry red welt on his arm pulses and throbs, giving off a pale glow his clothing can’t conceal. He opens his eyes, and the last remnants of his grace give a pale blue glow to his dark surroundings.

He can’t last long, not like this. His single shred of sanity wonders, not for the first time, if this is it. If this is the tidal wave of rage that will finally end him. His burning lungs suck in another breath, ready to push another scream through his aching throat—

_Cas? You there?_

Castiel’s breath catches. He wills his flailing limbs to slow. Panting with ragged breaths, he stills to listen again.

_Sorry, meant to be here sooner. Was...talking to Sam._

Castiel closes his eyes again, focusing his entire will on the voice in his head. Dean. Dean is praying to him again. Relief begins its slow trickle through his body.

_I miss you. So damned much. Every day — hell, every hour — I wonder if we made a mistake. And I have to fight the urge to find you, dig up that damned box, set you free, consequences be damned._

A tear slips down Castiel’s temple. His entire body is still now, relaxed. Exhausted. A lump forms in his aching throat. The Mark is quiet.

_But we agreed that this was for the best. It seemed to make sense at the time. And I’ve asked you to do the same for me, so..._

Castiel can picture Dean in his mind again. Can almost see him give a little shrug as his voice—his prayer—trails off.

_And I promised you I wouldn’t leave you. And I won’t. I hope you know that. I’m right here. I’ll always be here. I’m not goin’ anywhere. I’m right here. With you._

A soft sigh escapes Castiel’s lips. He can almost imagine the hunter lying next to him, even though he knows there isn’t enough room in the Ma’lak box. As if his thought alone was the catalyst, the box itself begins to creak and groan. The dents Castiel had kicked and punched into the top and the sides slowly flatten and return to smooth planes. 

Ready for the next wave.


End file.
